


Baby Blues

by chocolatecakecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Baby Jack Kline, Canon Temporary Character Death, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Dean Winchester is Good With Children, Episode: s13e01 Lost and Found, Episode: s13e05 Advanced Thanatology, Good Uncle Sam Winchester, Grieving Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:13:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29723307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatecakecas/pseuds/chocolatecakecas
Summary: Dean never thought it would end like this.His mother and best friend, gone in the blink of an eye.And now he's got a baby in the backseat whose life depends on Dean getting his crap together, and he can't even bear to look at him.Because if he looks at him, he'll seehim.But Dean has a job to do, and dammnit, he's going to do it. Because he can't fail, not again.What if Jack was born as anactualbaby.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this originally began as just a collection of s13 baby Jack thoughts in a tumblr post, and it kind of spiraled its way into a fic. So the first few chapters are more "stylistically simplistic", but I promise they turn into more "traditional" chapters as it goes on!
> 
> I haven't written in years, but the idea of baby Jack pulled me in, and now I can't stop! I've also never posted any of my writings on ao3 before so this is a little scary, but I hope you enjoy it!

Dean stares at the crib from across the room, and tries not to think about the body laying on the table downstairs.

He thinks about how he and Sam packed up what they could from the nursery and shoved it into the impala, so he doesn’t have to think about how he ripped the curtains from the windows downstairs.

He focuses on the baby stirring and huffing as he wakes, so he doesn’t have to think about how carefully he wrapped the body downstairs.

He walks over to the crib and sees a flash of familiar blue, and he shuts his own, so he doesn’t have to think about the faded, vacant blue eyes downstairs.

Dean vaguely registers Sam appearing in the doorway, so he takes that as his cue and motions towards the crib as he stalks out of the room.

Dean walks through the grass and thinks about the drive home, so he doesn’t have to think about the dead weight in his arms.

He thinks about what tape he’ll choose for the ride, so he doesn’t have to think about the body he’s softly laying on the pyre.

He focuses on the chill of the night air, so that he doesn’t have to think about the baby Sam placed in his arms.

He listens to the sounds of the night, so he doesn’t have to listen to the click of the zippo and the roar of the flames.

Dean holds the baby pressed tightly to his chest, and he tells himself it’s to protect him from the flames.

Then, Dean looks into the fire and he thinks. About soft laughter, about gummy smiles, and messy hair. About gentle touches, about strong hands, and tight embraces. About longing gazes, about fleeting glances, and the feeling of home. About friendship, about unspoken words that can never be said, and emotions threatening to drown him.

So Dean stops, and he thinks about the stars instead. He vaguely registers Sam walking back to the house.

Dean stands staring at the pyre and listens to the rumble of the impala in the distance, so he doesn’t have to think about how the flames have long burned out and only ash remains.

He can’t move, because if he moves, then it’s _real _. If he moves he’ll have to look at the baby in his arms and see his achingly familiar blue eyes.__

So he stands, keeping the baby, _Jack _,close to his chest.__

He can’t bear to think about it, _not yet _, so he thinks about the new weight in his arms instead.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me and baby jack truth with me on tumblr [ @chocolatecakecas](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first night

The drive is silent, Sam is passed out with his head against the glass and Dean stares out at the dark stretch of pavement.  
He refuses to let his gaze wander upwards, eyes glued to the road, hands gripping the wheel tightly. He hears the soft breathing from the backseat, and he grips the wheel tighter, pressing the gas a little harder.

Around 4 am they finally pull into the garage. Sam rouses from sleep, jumping out of the car, and attempts to start pulling things from the trunk, but Dean stops him with a wave of his hand. 

Sam leans back down through the passenger door with a look that Dean refuses to contemplate, so he turns forward in his seat, giving the wall his full attention instead. Eventually, Sam heaves a sigh as he softly shuts the door and stalks into the bunker.

Dean doesn’t get out, white knuckle grip on the wheel, glaring at the gray brick. Closing his eyes, he takes a steadying breath through his nose.

He can smell the smoke, he can feel the cold sting of the night air on his cheeks, and deep blue swims behind his eyes

Then there’s a cry. 

Dean’s eyes fly open ripping him from his thoughts, the smoke dissipates and the blue fades away, but the cold feeling remains. 

He stares back at the wall. The cries begin to grow. 

He doesn’t move.

After a few minutes, Dean’s eyes slowly begin to trail down the wall, to the wheel, then to the dashboard, finally landing on the mirror. His eyes meet a black car seat, looking small and out of place on the giant leather bench.

He takes a shuttering breath, and physically swallows the emotions threatening to spill over, forcing them back down into the deep pit of his stomach. His vision refocuses, meeting his own eyes in the reflection. The cries grow louder.

And in a flash, he’s opening the back door, and with car seat in hand, bag on his shoulder, he walks through the halls and into the kitchen. 

Dean gently places the carrier on the table, and without a second glance, he gets to work on pulling the contents from the bag. Refusing to turn around even as the cries turn into wails. 

He reads the instructions on the can, ignoring the screams behind him. He operates on painfully familiar muscle memory, placing a pot of water on the stove with shaking hands. 

Dean washes a plastic bottle in the sink with scalding water, he still feels cold. 

Turning off the tap he goes to dry the lid, freezing when he notices the blue rim.

He forces his eyes shut. 

Behind his eyes, swims a deep blue, he smells cheap shampoo, and he can feel the cool touch of familiar fingers _grazin _-__

__Then there’s a scream._ _

__Dean’s eyes fly open as he’s pulled from his thoughts, he glances back down at the blue-rimmed lid in his hands, his blood runs cold and the smell of cheap shampoo is replaced with the scent of burning water. He rushes to shut the bubbling pot off, spilling the can of powder as he goes. He rights it with trembling fingers, and grips the cool metal of the counter, grounding himself._ _

__The screams grow behind him._ _

__He moves._ _

__Dean stands in front of the table, gaze shifting from the ceiling, down the length of the wall, to the papers on the bulletin board, finally landing on the carrier._ _

__His eyes meet a tiny red face, squirming miserably, and balled fists trying to wrestle their way free from the weight of a pale yellow blanket._ _

__Suddenly, as if aware he’s being watched, the cries settle for a moment, and achingly familiar blue eyes meet green._ _

__In a flash, Dean has the baby against his chest, lightly bouncing as he stands at the kitchen counter, preparing a bottle with one hand._ _

__The weight in his arms sniffles against his chest and he focuses on measuring the powder, desperately trying not to let the grief consume him._ _

__Dean finds himself sitting at the table, baby balanced his arms, bottle in hand, staring at the wall in front of him. With a shaky breath he looks down._ _

__His vision fills with blue eyes, he can smell baby powder, and feels the warmth against his chest._ _

__A tear spills from his eyes, and his heart aches with an unfamiliar emotion, but he’s unable to look away._ _

__The beginnings of a smile grace Dean’s lips, as he lets the tears fall, the grief twists in his stomach threatening to break free._ _

__But he keeps it at bay, allowing to the new warmth in his arms to consume him _instead _.___ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An angst fest, I swear there's some fluff on the way!!!   
> Come yell with me on tumblr [ @chocolatecakecas](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean spends some quality time with Jack, and maybe he _is _getting the hang of this.__

Jack is growing faster than a normal human baby.  
Not that this is Dean’s area of expertise, as one of his only indicators is that Jack feels bigger in his arms than Sam did when he was finally allowed to hold him for the first time, (to be fair he was only four at the time), but he’s pretty sure he’s right. And it’s not like they sell _“What to Expect When You’re Expecting: Nephilim Edition” _, at Barnes and Nobel, so he’s working with what he’s got.__

__So that's the one baby book they managed to pack from the house, and of course the internet._ _

__Which is why Dean is currently laying on the floor of the Dean Cave, staring at the tiny body perched on his chest. “Tummy time”, as it’s called in the book, is important at this age, so it’s important to Dean._ _

__He’s already read the baby book from cover to cover month more times over the past than he can count, and he’s scrounged every corner of the internet to fill in the gaps. So Dean knows that babies need a schedule, so he has one and sticks to it._ _

__

__Feeding times, naps, tummy time._ _

__He’s doing this right, he _has _to.___ _

____And according to the book and Google, Jack’s way ahead of schedule. He can already hold up his head from Dean’s chest on his own, which is what he’s currently doing right now, looking at Dean with wide eyes._ _ _ _

____A smile pulls at Dean’s lips._ _ _ _

____He feels a sense of pride begin to swell in his stomach, but something clenches at his heart._ _ _ _

____His smile dips._ _ _ _

____Jack forces an “AH” from his throat._ _ _ _

____Shaking his head, Dean puffs out a breath, refocusing on Jack. Dean makes a silly face, which causes a smile to grow on Jack’s lips._ _ _ _

____Dean smiles back._ _ _ _

____Jack is the happiest baby Dean’s ever met, not that he’s met a ton of babies, but he’s pretty sure he’s right. Jack smiles constantly, except for the handful of times he’s wailing his head off, and it’s a real smile too, which according to the book, he shouldn’t be doing yet._ _ _ _

____He assumes it’s the angel in him._ _ _ _

____Dean stretches an arm out, blindly searching for his phone. Once he’s got it, he sends off a quick text to Sam who’s on hunting a Werewolf in Nebraska. Then he balances the phone on his chest and snaps picture of Jack, making another face to ensure a smile._ _ _ _

____That’s another thing Dean’s been doing._ _ _ _

____He makes sure to take a few pictures of Jack every day, and at the end of the week, he goes to the small Drug Store in town so he can get them printed. The girl behind the counter helps him navigate the tiny “photo center”(an ancient desktop computer, and a printer) and makes Dean promise to bring Jack along with him one day._ _ _ _

____Dean spends every free moment he gets, which isn’t many, organizing photos in the yellow photo album they took from the house, and fills out the “firsts” section in the back._ _ _ _

____He also writes the day’s events and important updates in a journal he found around the bunker, every day._ _ _ _

____Dean makes sure he takes a photo of every important moment of Jack’s day. Dean writes down everything Jack did that day, from the 2:30 am bottle to the same bottle the next day. He has to, he can’t afford to forget. He does it for him, so he doesn’t mis-_ _ _ _

____A tiny fist grasps at his shirt and he hears an impatient whine._ _ _ _

____Dean meets those blue eyes again, he huffs a laugh and begins to tell Jack the plot of Back to the Future II._ _ _ _

____Dean does this now too._ _ _ _

____He talks to Jack about everything and anything all day long, Jack seems to like it and Dean thinks it’s because he doesn’t like the silence, so he’s happy to oblige. And Dean has a hunch, he can understand him, which according to the book, he shouldn’t be able to do yet. But more often than not, he swears that Jack is actually listening, staring up at him with wide eyes and a painfully familiar curiosity, that makes Dean’s heartache and he-_ _ _ _

____So Dean tells Jack about his car, about his favorite movies and books, about the best diner he’s ever been to._ _ _ _

____Dean tells Jack about Mary, about all of the dumb things Sam has done over the years, and about _him _.___ _ _ _

______Dean talks about him the most, but only in the early hours of the morning, as he holds Jack against his chest, in the dark kitchen._ _ _ _ _ _

______Suddenly, his heart clenches, squeezing tight in his chest. It knocks the wind out of him, and the words catch in his throat._ _ _ _ _ _

______Dean’s vision fills with blue and his mind swims with thoughts of him._ _ _ _ _ _

_______He _should be here. _He _be the one to hold his child against his chest, to earn his smile, to comfort him.____ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________He _deserves to see this. He shouldn’t have to miss these moments.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________So Dean is going to get him back, because he deserves it, Jack deserves it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Jack deserves better than what he has, he should be with his _father _, not De-___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________A tiny fist taps his chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Dean snaps back to reality, staring at the little round face wiggling in front of his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________A smile spreads across his face. Jack smiles back and reaches out with a tiny hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________So Dean moves his head forward, meeting him in the middle, and Jacks's little fingers land on Dean’s nose._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He feels the grief drain from his body, replaced with an overwhelming sense of adoration, he can breathe again. He places one hand over Jacks, giving it a tiny squeeze._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Jack eventually pulls out of his grip and goes back to wiggling on Dean’s chest, with a wide smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Blinking away the tears, Dean reaches for his phone again, and preparing to take another picture._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________In this moment, Jack looks as happy as can be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________And he deserves to see that, so Dean makes sure that he will._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He snaps a photo, or two._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Dean slowly shifts to a sitting position, holding Jack tightly against his chest, as he rests his back against the base of one of the recliners. He leans down pressing a soft kiss to Jack’s forehead, Dean gets a tiny hand on his cheek and soft coo in response._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He smiles. Jack smiles back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Dean may not be him and he never will be, but he’s all he’s got. And he thinks, maybe he’s enough for Jack, _for now _.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell with me on tumblr[ @chocolatecakecas](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This chapter references and briefly depicts Dean utilizing alcohol as a coping mechanism.  
> There are also depictions of an anxiety attack.
> 
> Dean falls into a routine

There’s a scream. Dean bolts awake, sprinting out of his room and slamming his weight into the door across the hall.

Not bothering with the light, he quickly crosses the room, and bends down. He cradles the tiny body against his chest, and glances up at the clock on the wall, cursing to himself.

_Quarter to five _. He slept through his alarm.__

____

____

Dean feels something drop deep in the pit of his stomach, ice runs through his veins. The feeling grows and swirls inside him craw-

There’s another cry from his arms. Shaking his head, he makes his way to the kitchen, softly expressing his apologies to Jack. Unsure whether he’s attempting to reassuring Jack or himself, but that’s something he’d rather not contemplate.

It was only fifteen minutes off schedule.

Dean opens the fridge with one hand as he bounces the tiny body in his arms. He squints at the blinding light, eyes instinctively moving to the second shelf.

He freezes.

_He forgot to make the bottle. ___

____

____

Dean feels tears prick in his eyes, and tells himself it’s just because of the light. The unrecognizable feeling deep in his gut attempts to crawl its way up, he takes a shaky breath, struggling to force it back down, an-

There’s a cry. Dean spins on his heel, slamming the door as he goes. He quickly gets to work on prepping a bottle while shakily humming what is supposed to be Smoke On the Water. It’s Jack’s favorite.

With trembling hands his places the pot on the stove, and wanders around the kitchen, softly rubbing circles into Jack’s back.

Fifteen minutes. He forgot to make the bottle. He was up at 2:30 a.m and he always makes the second bottle for the 4:30 a.m feeding. He _always _makes sure the volume is all the way up on his phone before going back to bed. He’s _never _late. He _never _forgets. He _neve _-________

_____ _

_____ _

_____ _

_____ _

Dean stops in front of the stove, sighing when he sees the water isn’t bubbling yet. Jack wails. He hums the next verse.

His eye catches the clock. 5:04 a.m.

_Thirty-four minutes. ___

____

____

The feeling washes over him again, he can’t quite place it yet, but he feels it clawing its way up his throat. He shivers, even though the body in his arms burns against his chest as he screams on.

Dean hears the bubble of the water, and hurries to shut it off. He focuses on measuring the powder as Jack continues to scream in his arms.

He starts the song over, struggling to hit each note. It makes no difference, he screams on.

Dean sits in his chair at the map table, looking down as the baby in his arms drinks as though his life depends on it.

Which it does.

He freezes. The feeling rushes over him, wrapping around his throat, climbing higher and higher. He holds back a sob threatening to leave his lips and he-

A soft whine rips him from his thoughts. Dean sets the bottle on the table, slowly standing and makes his way back down the hall. He bends down, gently laying Jack in his crib, smoothing his hair.

He grips the railing tightly, allowing it to ground him and watches as Jack’s chest slowly begins to rise and fall.

Then it hits him.

He lets go of the railing as if he’s been burned and steps back, allowing the familiar feeling to rise up his throat and consume him.

_Failure. _Dean had failed.__

____

____

Dean is no stranger to failure. He failed his father, his mother, every person who couldn’t save. And he’s failed Sam so many times he’s lost count, and he mentally adds tonight to the ever-increasing tally. Sam’s taking care of a spirit in Colorado and Dean’s supposed to be taking care of Jack

But he _didn’t _wake up. He _didn’t _make the bottle. He _didn’t _even manage to calm Jack. Three simple tasks.______

_____ _

_____ _

Dean is only three months in, and he’s already slipping, already slacking. He was given a job to do, protect Jack, and he’s already failing at keeping him alive, let alone protecting him. He’s already failed C-

A rush of cold washes over him as he feels the failure intertwine with the ever-present sense of grief. Dean’s mind wanders back to that first night.

After Jack’s bottle, Dean had to managed to wrestle the pack n’ play free from the trunk, with one hand.

With red-rimmed eyes, he sat at the map table staring at the pack n’ play across the room. He heard soft breathing, and forced his eyes to look anywhere else. They landed on a bottle.

Suddenly, he found it in his hand, and not bothering with a glass, he took a sip. And another. And then another.

His mind became hazy, the room spun as he forced his eyes shut. A deep blue swirled behind his eyes, he could smell the smoke, saw the flames curling around a tan cloth, felt the wind whipping around his cheeks, he heard a distant scream, remembered the silent walk back to his car.

He took another sip. Then another.

_Real _. It was all real. He was gone. Dean couldn’t save him. And he was gone, _forever because of hi- _____

_____ _

_____ _

The bottle was empty.

Without a second glance back at the pack n' play, Dean stumbled into the kitchen. That’s where Sam would find him on the floor in the morning surrounded by empty bottles. Holding a screaming child in his arms, he leveled him with a look that made Dean’s hear-

A buzz pulls him from his memory. A trembling hand pulls his phone from his pocket, and through blurred vision, he makes out a text from Sam. He’ll be home in a few hours.

Dean shoves the phone back in his pocket, but not before turning on the sound.

He tries to regain control of his ragged breathing as he glances back to the pack n play folded up in the corner of the room.

Dean felt shame wash over him, fusing with his failure and grief.

He hadn’t had a drink since that night, and he reminds himself that it’s a good thing, but he feels tonight’s events are far worse because of it. Because he can’t even blame it on the alcohol or the fresh gravity of loss.

He failed tonight, and there was no one to blame, but himself.

Dean moves back to the crib, gripping the railing, and forces himself to look down at the tiny life inside.

All of his failures wash over him, and none of them feel as monumental as tonight. His vision blurs, and he grips the bar tighter, biting back a sob.

He was late, he forgot the bottle, he couldn’t comfort Jack. He couldn’t handle three simple tasks to keep Jack alive tonight, how is he supposed to handle the rest of his life? How is he supposed to protect Jack when he couldn’t even protec-

The phone rings.

Broken out of his daze, Dean releases the railing, but his eyes don’t leave Jack. He fishes his phone out of his pocket with a shaky hand, pressing it to his ear.

He’s met with silence, he can hear the wind whipping on the other end. He’s about to open his mouth to tell Sam he got his text an-

_“….Dean” ___

He freezes.

A clang echoes through the halls as the phone slips, hitting the floor. 

Then there’s a sob, followed by a baby’s cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's back!!!!  
> As always come yell with me on tumblr[ @chocolatecakecas](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They drive in silent, racing down an abandoned road. Which only allows Dean's mind to race even faster.

The drive is silent. Sam peers intently out the window, only looking down to fiddle with his phone.

Dean stares out at the dark stretch of pavement. Hands gripping the wheel tightly, as his gaze wanders upwards, eyes finding the car seat in the rearview mirror. He hears the soft breathing from the backseat, and he grips the wheel tighter, pressing the gas a little harder.

Dean watches sign after sign pass as they fly down an abandoned road, his eyes rising to the mirror every few seconds.

He can’t think about what’s ahead, not yet. So thinks about his day instead.

This morning was off to a rough start, beginning with the slight derailment of Jack’s usual schedule. As far as he’s concerned, it was a major fuck up on Dean’s end, but he’s forcing himself to table that guilt spiral. Well, at least for now.

He’s been, for lack of a better term, an anxious wreck all day. Especially since Sam somehow convinced him to wait until he got back to the bunker, instead of just meeting him halfway, like Dean, wanted. Sam walked in the door at a quarter after two, and they were already on the road by 2:20.

Because he got that call. He heard his voice. He’s ba- _no_ , 

Dean won’t let him get ahead of himself, he can’t be too hopeful, not yet. Not until Dean sees him with his own two eyes.

His is breath catch in his throat.

Dean is going to _see_ him. He is going to see _Dean_. Which means he’ll se-

There’s a snuff from the backseat as Jack shifts in his sleep. Dean’s eyes trail upwards and meet the familiar black car seat. Something pull in his chest.

Then it hits him.

He is going to see Jack, for the first time. He is going to meet his _son_. The son who’s been cared for by Dean. And he’ll kno-

Sam mumbles something quietly, ripping Dean from his thoughts. He takes Dean’s silence as a cue to repeat himself, informing him they’re about twenty minutes out. Something drops deep in the pit of Dean’s stomach.

_Twenty minutes._

In twenty minutes he’s going to see Dean, and see Dean with _his_ baby. And he’ll _know_.

He’ll know that Dean messed up. Not just this morning, but every day for the past three months. Dean tried, with the pictures, and the schedule and the tummy time, and the daily writings, but they just weren’t enough, he could have done more. Dean knows he fail-

Jack shifts in his sleep again, letting out a little whine. Dean’s eyes snap to the mirror. His heart clenches in his chest.

_Fourteen minutes._

So Dean tries to reason with himself.

Okay, it’s not exactly like he was given a lot of warning on how involved he would be, especially with everything that had happened before wi-

He blinks a few times, immediately cutting off that train of thought before it goes off the rails.

He glances in the mirror, taking a steadying breath. _Focus._

Dean tells himself he did the _best_ that he could, he’s been doing extensive research, he spends a majority of his day with Jack, he tried to capture every moment and he stuck to the schedule.

For the most part.

His mind subconsciously flashes back to the early hours of the morning. He can hear Jack’s wails, he feels the failure wash over him again threatening to consu-

Sam’s phone buzzes softly. Jack coos from the backseat. Dean’s eyes dart to the clock.

_Ten minutes._

In ten minutes Dean will see him. In ten minutes he’ll see Dean. In ten minutes, he’ll meet his son.

Dean’s mind races. He did do the best he could, but he could have done _better_.

And there’s no denying it’s true, but he _did_ read the book, he _did_ do the research, he _did_ dedicate himself. And yeah he wasn’t perfect, but maybe that was enough for now? Jack seemed pretty happy as far as Dean could tell. And maybe he’ll understand.

_Maybe he’ll even forgive him._

Not for everything of course, Dean’s just being logical. But maybe he can forgive him for this.

Because at the end of the day, Dean knows he could have tried harder, he could have done better, he knows it. And Jack deserved better, he deserved a perfect father, and that’s something Dean could _never_ be. He knows that.

He isn’t Jack’s real father, but maybe he was _enough_ in his absence? And maybe his real father could forgive Dean, and he would understand an-

Dean’s eyes trail back up to the mirror, he stares at the tiny plastic seat.

 _Two minutes_.

He panics.

Will he know as soon as he looked at Jack? Will he turn those eyes on Dean, full of disappointment and anger? Or will he forgive him? Does Dean even deserve his forgiveness? Will he even speak to Dean? Does he even _want_ to see Dean? _What if he doesn’t even loo-_

Dean’s foot finds the break. The air rips from his lungs, as his hands grip the wheel, knuckles turning white.

He freezes. 

Time seems to still for a moment, tension hanging in the air.

A coo from the backseat breaks the silence. Then Sam moves. Dean stalls.

Sam’s already halfway out the door, and Dean can’t move. Not yet.

Dean’s eyes desperately travel to the mirror, and his heart pounds at the sight in the reflection.

Then with a shaky breath, he trails his eyes back down the windshield. A figure ahead turns.

In a flash Dean’s out of the car, crossing the pavement, pushing his way past Sam.

Dean stops.

He stands, illuminated by a soft blue glow looking as though he nev- _but he can’t be, they burn-_

The figure faces Dean, meeting his eyes and Dean’s vision swims with blue. A blue he never thought he’d see again, and for the first time in months, his heart doesn’t break at the color.

A smile pulls at his lips, and Dean smiles back. 

_It’s him._

Dean moves.

Dean crashes into him, gripping the back of his coat like his life depends on it. He hears the low rumble of the Impala, he smells cheap shampoo, and he lets the familiar warmth in his arms consume him.

Dean feels the name rise up his throat, the name that’s been trapped behind his lips, screaming to be released, for what feels like a lifeti-

“ _Cas_ ”.

His voice breaks, as his vision begins to blur. He feels something swimming in his stomach, trying to crawl its way up his throat, threatening to break fr-

_“Dean”._

A sob forces its way past Dean’s lips, and Cas makes a similar sound. Tears freely fall down his cheeks, but he can’t bring himself to care because, for the first time in months, he feels _whole_.

Dean’s anxieties which threatened to drown him moments ago, subside. Dean knows they’ll soon resurface, but he can’t be bothered to worry about that now.

He’s too focused on the warmth in his arms.

They both pull back a bit, drinking in one another, and green meets blue. He feels Cas’ hand rest in its place on Dean’s shoulder.

A watery laugh filled with relief escapes Dean’s throat, Cas joins in.

 _He’s here._ _He’s back. He’s didn-_

From behind them, Sam clears his throat, and they quickly break apart. Dean watches for a moment as Sam engulfs Cas in a hug, then he hesitantly turns back to the car.

He takes a deep breath.

Dean rips open the backdoor and is met with another pair of wide blue eyes. He carefully removes the seat whispering reassurances, and he tells himself they’re to calm Jack.

Dean peers down at the tiny face, and watches as Jack’s eyes wander, curiously taking in his new surroundings. He grips the car seat tightly, feeling the plastic dig into his palms, grounding him for a moment.

_It’s time._

He gently places the car seat on the hood, holding it with one hand just in case. He smooths the blanket down, pulling it off Jack’s fac-

“….is that?”

Dean turns. Cas is frozen, blue eyes wide and terrified, a trembling hand raised in question. Dean has never seen him look so… _afraid_. So _hesitant_.

It catches Dean off guard, but a smile still pulls at his lips and he nods, beckoning him forward. Sam smiles reassuringly, as Cas slowly crosses the lot, stopping in front of the car.

He gasps.

Dean watches as blue meets blue. Cas’ eyes begin to fill with tears, and he suddenly whips his head to look at Dean. Face filled with uncertainty, eyes begging a question.

Which takes Dean entirely by surprise.

 _Why is Cas looking to him when he_ -no, now is not the time to unpack that. So he quickly recovers giving him an encouraging smile.

That seems to settle Cas, so he bends a bit and hesitantly extends a finger out to Jack. Jack takes it.

Dean hears Cas’ breath hitch, and sees a blinding smile spread across his face, and then a matching one on Jack’s.

An emotion Dean’s never felt before washes over him. It fills up his stomach and makes his heartache, in a way that nothing ever has.

_He hopes it never stops._

He meets Sam’s eye on the other side of Cas. He’s sporting a soft smile, and gives him a look that Dean can’t quite place, then glances back at Cas and Jack.

Then it hits him.

Dean realizes that this moment right here, might be one of the _happiest_ moments of his life. The three people he cares most about in the entire world, bathed in a blue light, by some dingy phone booth, in the middle of nowhere.

And he’s never seen a more perfect sight.

He hastily tries to take in every detail of the scene before him, committing it to memory. He’s terrified to look away, for the fear that it might disappear.

Dean feels that strange emotion swell again, as a fresh set of tears cloud his vision.

His smile widens as the gravity of the situation sets in.

Of course, there’s conversations that have to be had, questions that need to asked, and _things_ Dean is finally ready to discuss, but he pushes them from his mind, because now is not the time. And now, they’ve _got_ the time.

And besides, there’s a more pressing matter Dean needs to attend to first.

He takes a deep breath.

“Jack….this is your _Dad_ ”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always come yell with me on tumblr [ @chocolatecakecas](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is finally free from the Empty, after he fought every single day, determined to get back. But now that he's here, he's never felt so unsure and realizes that a lot can happen in three months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' POV!!! I have never really written from Cas' perspective before, so I hope this makes sense and isn't terribly OOC  
> Enjoy!

Cas has lived for millions of years. He was there at the beginning of creation, when there was nothing except for God and the angels. He has seen all of the wonders of the world, he’s traveled the globe, been to every corner of the Earth.

And _nothing_ could possibly compare to the sight before him.

Cas sat in the backseat, staring at Jack’s round face, studying every inch of it. His hand gripped the cool leather of the bench as the soft sounds of Bob Seger’s greatest hits filled the silence.

He tore his gaze away for a moment, meeting achingly familiar green eyes in the rearview mirror. A smile tugged at his lips.

This is _real_. He is _back_. This wasn’t just another trick of the Empty.

Cas shifted his focus back to the car seat, watching as Jack curiously studied his face.

From pain, anger, and destruction, came this beautiful child. Wide eyed and curious. _Alive_.

_The most perfect sight he had ever seen._

And now, Cas stands silently in the kitchen doorway, watching Dean bounce the tiny body in his arms, as he begins to prep a bottle with one hand.

Sees Dean expertly set the water on the stove, moving to the sink to wash a bottle.

He feels something twist within him.

Cas should be helping.

Jack was meant to be his charge after all, and Dean shouldn’t have to carry that burden, this is Cas’ responsibility, Dean has enough to worry abo-

He freezes. Reality setting in.

 _Cas has_ _no idea what he’s doing._

Yes he bought the books, he did the research, he helped her prepare for it all, but he never actually _did_ any of it.

His knowledge is all theoretical (save for the one time he babysat for Nora from the Gas-N-Sip an-no, this was different). But he figured he’d have time to learn and improve.

And now he’s _three_ months behind.

He sees Dean’s hand blindly reach for a towel while he hums under his breath. Smoke on the Water, Cas recognizes.

Cas has missed so much. He missed the first three months of Jack’s life. Three months where Dean carried out his job an-

Cold washes over him. A sensation Cas normally wouldn’t experience, but everything is different when it comes to Dean, emotions are often uncontrollable, more powerful, as it’s _always_ been.

And it wasn’t fair of Cas to ask this of him.

His mind rushes back to that fleeting conversation where he had begged Dean to see reason, asked him to take care of Jack just in case anything happened, and well, it had.

It was an incredible burden to place on his shoulders, especially when Dean is already weighed down by so much.

It wasn’t fair to him.

Cas watches as Dean moves back to the counter, reaching for a can of formula. He hears Jack snuff against his shoulder.

Something heavy settles in his chest. He clenches his fists.

Cas can do this. He _has_ to do this. He owes it to Jack. He owes it to _Dean_. _He can make this right._

With a shaky breath he steps further into the kitchen.

Sensing his presence Dean turns, and Cas is met with wide green eyes and a smile.

He looks content, but Cas knows better.

He can see the grief behind his eyes, the exhaustion clear on his face, to the trained eye.

Something drops deep within him. He ignores it, taking another hesitant step.

Cas finds his voice. “How can I help”?.

Dean’s smile softens, and Cas thinks he sees tears forming in his eyes, but it’s probably a trick of the light.

He beckons Cas forward and together they stand side by side, as Dean softly explains how to prep Jack’s bottle, and the basics of his nightly schedule.

Soon they found themselves standing together in Jack’s room, peering down into the crib.

Cas had helped Dean finish making bottle, and promised to teach him the whole process for the 4:30am feeding.

Then, they sat together at the map table, as Dean showed him how to hold Jack properly.

When Cas felt the weight in his arms, he was overcome with an indescribable emotion. It was like feeling for the _first_ time again.

Breaking out of his trace, he had glanced up at Dean and was met with an unreadable expression.

But Cas knew what it meant, he knew what was coming.

He was so swept up in the grandeur of being back, of being alive, he hadn’t had a moment to think yet.

Now, he watched as Dean gently smoothed Jack’s hair, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

Cas’ breath hitched.

He has missed so much, and there was _no_ getting it back. It was his fault Dean had to bear this burden, to fill the role of a father, a role he did not ask to play.

It’s a role Dean is filling incredibly, Cas never had any doubts with the way he had cared for Sam- _a job_ he never asked for, but a role he filled regardless.

And now Cas has done the _same_ thing.

He forced Dean to fill a paternal role he did not want, and no-

Dean claps a hand on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

He murmurs something that Cas can’t decipher in this state, and leaves the room.

The cold feeling returns.

His gaze travels back down to Jack, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.

He feels something swim low within him.

He missed the first three months of Jack’s life, forcing Dean to pick up the pieces he left behind. And now he’s back, but he has _no_ clue what he’s doing. He’s meant to be Jack’s father bu-

What is Cas, but a _disappointment?_

He should have been the one prepping bottles on in the early hours of the morning, not Dean. He should have been the one comforting Jack as he wails, not Dean.

This is not jealousy that threatens to consume him, it’s far from it.

It’s _guilt_ that slithers it’s way up his throat.

This was _his_ job to carry out, and _he_ failed.

Cas’ eyes roam over Jack’s small frame, watching as his tiny fist tug at a pale yellow blanket.

Tears prick in his eyes threatening to fall.

He had failed Jack.

Jack deserved better. And he _had_ better in Dean, but Cas couldn’t ask him to continue to fill this role. He had already asked too much already and De-

Dean was probably still angry with him.

Cas thought back to the fight they had before and-

 _How could he be so stupid?_ Cas had failed him three months ago, he had disappointed him.

He betrayed him, lied to him, and then Cas _died_ , leaving him with a child to care for.

And now, Cas had failed him, again.

They hadn’t had a chance to discuss much of anything yet, but Cas was sure of it.

Dean probably hates him, and Cas can’t say he blames him. He has every reason too.

Cas left. He had been reckless, and while he was correct about Jack, the entire situation could have been handled better. If he had just talked to Dean a little more then maybe it would be dif-

No, he cannot allow himself to think that way.

A baby he was _forced_ into caring for. And while Cas has no doubts that Dean loves Jack, it does not change the fact that he _left_ Dean with a baby he never asked for. For three months.

He probably wants nothing to do with Cas and wants him ou-

Dean’s hand suddenly reappears on his shoulder, startling him out of his trance.

Slowly, Cas turns meeting green eyes in the darkness.

He gives Cas an expectant look, and leads him out into the hall.

Cas’ mind races.

This is it. Dean is going to ask him to leave, _again_.

Tell him how unfair the burden Cas cast upon his shoulders was.

The grief mixes with sorrow and Cas welcomes the feeling. He allows it to claw its way up his throat.

_He deserves the feeling._

Cas had missed three months. _Three months_ he left Dean alone to care for a child. _Three months_ where he failed Jack. _Three months_ he failed Dean, again. _Three months_ he can never get back an-

They stop at the map table. Dean sits and gestures for Cas to do the same.

The terror wells up inside him, but he selfishly allows himself to be worried.

He deserves what’s coming, but he can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on Dean’s face, _not again._

Cas knows he deserves it, but he doesn’t believe he can bear it.

He can’t handle the look, he doesn’t want to leave. Not when there's so many words unspoken and feelings left unsa-

Cas freezes.

His eyes meet two books. A leather-bound journal, and a familiar yellow book.

His eyes slowly pan up to Dean, filled with confusion.

Dean gives him a shy smile, hand instinctively reaching for the back of his neck.

Cas doesn’t understand, _why isn’t he y-_

Dean gestures for Cas to open the yellow book.

Slowly, Cas drops into a chair, and with trembling hands, he lifts the cover.

He gasps, head snapping up.

“…I figured you’d want to see all of this. I mean it wasn’t fair that you had to miss all of it. No parent should be forced to miss any of their kid’s firsts”

An emotion Cas has never felt before washes over him, his mind quiets, thoughts stalling.

_He doesn’t understa-_

“…so I’ve been taking pictures everyday…it may be a _bit_ much in hindsight, but I didn’t want you to miss anything. I wanted you to be able to see it all ya know?”

Cas’ mind is numb, thoughts bouncing around his skull. He can’t get his mouth to cooperate so he worldlessly flips to the second page.

Photos. Photos cover the pages, with the dates neatly scrawled underneath each. All of _Jack_.

_Jack in his car seat, Jack laying on a multicolored blanket, Jack in Sam’s arms, Jack with a gummy smile, Jack asleep on Dean’s chest._

Something within Cas aches in a way it never ha-

Dean slowly pushes the journal forward, worry swimming behind his eyes.

Cas slowly pulls back the cover and pauses at the sight.

The familiar curve of Dean’s writing fills each page.

“I’ve also been writing about each day-which _again_ , I know is a little overkill, but I wanted you to know all of it. I tried to be as detailed as I could, so you could read it when you came back-but I’m sure I forgot some things”.

Dean did all of this. For _him_. Every single day. For three months.

Cas looks up expecting to meet Dean’s eyes, but he’s focused on the table, worrying his lip between his teeth.

_Why is Dean ner-_

“I-I understand if you guys wanna leave, get a place of your own. I mean I get it with the life w-”.

Cas finally finds his voice

“What are you talking about, Dean?”

Dean swallows nervously, fiddling with his fingers. He pointedly avoids Cas’ gaze

“I mean I just figured you’d want to take Jack, and go live in a normal house somewhere? White picket fence, prestigious preschool, PTA? And of course I understand, but I jus-”

 _Dean_ doesn’t want Cas to leave, he thinks _Cas_ wants to leave.

 _He wants Cas here_. _Dean wants Cas to stay._

Dean is trying to ask Cas to stay.

Cas is so overcome by emotion that he doesn’t register his mouth is moving.

“Dean….there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be, than right _here_ -I mean if that’s okay with you?”

Dean’s head snaps up at that, finally meeting Cas’ eyes.

A look Cas can’t decipher crosses Dean’s face. Then, a smile spreads on his lips, a real one. Cas can’t help but smile back.

They stare in silence for a moment longer.

And Cas takes in Dean properly for the first time in three months.

Cas never dreamed he’d make it here, he had resigned himself to an eternity of darkness.

But now he’s sitting across from Dean, green eyes shining brightly, sporting a toothy grin, regardless of the exhaustion clear on his face.

Cas never thought he’d _see_ Dean again, let alone sit across from him and be asked to _stay_.

This is all _real_. He got out, away from the endless nightmares.

He’s _back_. To his _life_. To his _friends_. Back to his _son_. Back to _Dean_.

 _He doesn’t think he des_ -

Dean’s voice pulls Cas from his thoughts.

Then he gestures to the photos, and begins to tell the story behind each picture.

He studies each photo through blurred vision. Cas listens intently, hanging onto every word, hoping to gain more knowledge about his son, and hoping Dean never stops talking _(God he missed the sound of his voice)._

Dean is in the middle of a story about Sam’s failed first attempt at the “baby nightshift”, when an alarm blares on his phone. So they make their way, to Jack’s room, together.

Now, Cas stands in the kitchen, bouncing Jack in his arms as they wait for the water to boil.

He revels in the warmth in his arms, reminding himself that this is all _real_. That his _son_ is in his arms.

He slowly shifts his gaze across the kitchen.

Dean is leaning on the island, illuminated by the dim glow of the lights, watching him with a soft expression on his features.

Cas tilts his head in question and Dean’s lopsided grin only grows wider.

Cas can’t help but return the smile as he turns glancing at the pot.

“ _God, it’s good to have you back, Cas_ ” Dean laughs, voice breaking slightly.

Cas’ breath hitches in his throat, and he meets Dean’s eyes across the kitchen, holding the weight in his arms a little tighter.

 _Real_. _It’s all real._

And if tears start to form in Cas’ eyes, he’ll just blame it on the trick of the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always come yell with me on tumblr [ @chocolatecakecas](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been nearly 5 months since Cas came back, and he and Dean have settled into a comfortable routine. And Dean couldn't be happier, as they easily slipped back into right where they left off before everything.  
> But Cas is about to flip the switch

It was around 4 am when Dean finally pulled into the garage.

As soon as the impala was in park, Sam sighed and pulled himself out of the car, stumbling into the bunker without a word.

Dean doesn’t blame him.

 _Routine hunt, my ass,_ he thought to himself.

It was supposed to be a _small_ vamp nest, a _milk run_ they called it. But it turns out their sources had been sorely mistaken. It probably would have gone smoother if Cas had come, but he opted to stay back with the kid. And it’s not like they were about to bring an 8 month old on a hunt.

With a groan he leaned his head back against the seat, trying to find the strength to move. His entire body ached, the gash on his shoulder still fresh, and stinging.  


If he stayed here any longer, he’d definitely pass out, and his neck would kill him in the morning.

“ _Friggin milk run_ ” Dean scoffed to himself.

After a few moments, Dean sighed as he reluctantly got out of the car, making his way to the kitchen in search of food.

He hoped the fridge wasn’t empty again, he definitely needed to eat something on account of how much blood he lost during the hunt. And he did not feel like driving the 10 miles to the nearest 24 hour Gas-n-Sip.

Dean paused in the doorway when he noticed Cas seated at the table. His head was down, laser-focused on the book he was reading.

And just like that, Dean’s annoyance melted away.

This was a regular occurrence now. Finding Cas in random rooms of the bunker, during all hours of the night.

Angels didn’t need to sleep, so Cas would wander the halls, between Jack’s bottles.

Cas had been back for few months. After a _brief_ talk about everything that happened before the emp- _before Jack_ , they both said their apologies, and suddenly it was as if nothing had changed.

Dean didn’t really think he deserved that luxury, didn’t deserve Cas’ forg-

“How did the hunt go? Sam trudged through here, grabbed a bottle of water, and disappeared into his room without a word…..so I’m assuming it wasn’t a _milk run_ ”? Cas asked, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Dean felt the blood run to his cheeks. _How long was he standing there while he stared at Cas, like an idiot?_

He quickly recovered, and scoffed.

“Yeah, no. The nest was huge, the most vamps I’ve ever seen in one place. Don’t know how Jim and Emily managed to mistake five vamps for _twenty_ ”.

Cas just shook his head, clearly amused by all of this. So Dean pointedly rolled his eyes, going to wash the blood off his hands in the sink.

As he wiped them with a towel, he glanced back over at Cas.

He was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, well _Dean’s shirt._

That was a normal occurrence now too. Cas had finally shed his ratty trench coat and boxy suit. And while Dean secretly misses his old getup, he certainly doesn’t have _any_ complaints about Cas’ new fashion choices.

They had gone to Goodwill, and let Cas pick out whatever he wanted. They ended up leaving with the basics, a leather jacket of course, and somewhat predictably, a crapton of sweaters. But regardless of the clothes he now _owns,_ Cas still ends up in Dean’s more often than not. 

Dean obviously puts up a bit of a fight whenever this happens, because he’s definitely _annoyed_ when he sees Cas wearing his old band tees.

And yeah, maybe Dean gets a _little_ distracted whenever he gets a good look at Cas in Dean’s too tight t-shirt, and a pair of jeans, but that’s only because he’s just not used to Cas looking so normal _(at least that’s what he tells himself)._

Dean effectively breaks out of his daze, and shrugs off his jacket, refocusing on Cas again.

His eyes are purposely looking down as he plays with his fingers nervously.

_What is he-_

“Dean, I wanted t-”

Cas finally meets Dean’s eye, but cuts himself off when he catches sight of Dean’s arm.

Cas quickly crossed the room concern in his eyes.

“Dean you’re hurt, why didn’t you say anythi- _don’t tell me it’s fine_. We both know that’s a lie. Here let me-”

And before Dean could snark back, he had two fingers pressed to his forehead and a wave of pure energy washing over him.

“I’m sure you’re hungry, I didn’t know when you’d be back, but I made spaghetti- Dean I’m _400 million years old_ I can handle boiling pasta-it’s in the fridge”. Cas said exasperated, as he slumped back down in his seat.

“Gee thanks Cas” Dean said rolling at Cas’ dramatics.

“Of course, _Dean_ ”

And Cas said it with so much sincerity, that the air was ripped from Dean’s lungs.

Then Dean waits for a moment, seeing if Cas will pick up where he left off before. But he just turned back to his book, clearly avoiding his gaze, fingers tapping on the table.

So Dean forces himself to swallow the question, and reheat some spaghetti.

Cas was obviously nervous about whatever he was going to say. But Dean knows if it was important, Cas would tell him.

That’s how it was now.

It was like everything really was back to normal. They fell right back into the groove they were in before everything. Dean showing Cas his favorite movies, talking in the kitchen late at night, binge watching Dr. Sexy while Cas points out medical inaccuracies. And instead of working cases together, they took care of Jack together.

And now Dean and Cas talked about things, for real.

After a nightmare, Dean would usually wander off to go find whatever room Cas was in. And he would actually talk about his dream, or at least the parts he could remember.

He always seemed to be able to talk to Cas about anything, and well he was his _best friend_ after all. But he could tell him things he’d never dream telling Sam, and it was always easy with Cas

But this was _different._

Ever since Cas got back, there was a _shift_. A _change._

And it wasn’t that it was bad, actually Dean wa-

The microwave beeps, ripping him from his thoughts.

Shaking his head, Dean grabbed his plate and seated himself across from Cas.

He was still tapping a nameless beat on the table, while his other hand played with the collar of his shirt. Eyes focused on the book in front of him.

Cas wasn’t a chatty Cathy by any means, but he usually makes at least _some_ conversation.

With a sigh, Dean began to dig in.

The silence allowing his mind to race freely.

What did he have to tell him? Did something happen while they were gone? Did someone call with bad news? _Was it Jack? Was Jack sick or hurt or-_

No. If this was about the kid, then Cas would have told him by now. If it was something _important_ , Cas wouldn’t be hesitating like this.

Dean was pretty sure he could get it out of him, if he sparked a casual conversation, Cas would spill like he always does.

“I was wrong this isn’t hal-” “Dean I wanted t-”, they began at the same time.

They met each other’s eyes, and shared a laugh between them.

“I was just complimenting your pasta boiling skills, what were you gonna say?” Dean smiled, carefully avoiding mentioning the words he thought he heard.

And just like that, Cas was back to a bundle of nerves.

His blue eyes flicked down to the table, as he worried his lip between his teeth.

Dean waited patiently for him to continue, fearing if he spoke Cas would just brush the whole thing off.

But on the inside, he was starting to panic.

What the hell could make Cas turn into an anxious wreck like this? Did he say yes to the devil or decide to become God _again?_

Then, a clear thought rang out in his head.

_Was he going to say that he wanted to leav-_

“I wanted to give this to you”

Dean’s thoughts stalled.

Cas reached into his pocket, and with a shaky hand, held out a tape.

“I-I’ve been listening to all of the records and tapes we found at the thrift stor-but so far he’s my favorite”

Dean’s brain short circuited.

_He can’t hav-he doesn’t-why would he-_

His eyes snapped back up to Cas, noting the fear dancing behind his eyes.

So with an unsteady hand, Dean reached out, and took the tape.

**_Cas’ Top 13 Billy Joel Traxx_ **

His mind was flashing with snippets of Cas humming Lullabye as he rocked Jack back to sleep, or hearing the distant notes of Piano Man drift through the walls of Cas’ room.

Dean finally manages to regain control of his mouth, and his breathing.

“A _mixtape_ …..Like I gave you”?

The corners of Cas’ lips tick up the mention.

“Yes, I-well I _have_ expanded my music tastes since I’ve been back. And friends give each other gifts, right? So, I figured should return the favor, and help further your _music education_ ” Cas smiling at the reference he made.

_That’s what Dean had told him when he handed him the mixtape._

Dean was having difficulty breathing again.

That’s what _friends_ do. Of course, Cas hadn’t understood the meaning behind giving someone a mixtape, and it’s not like Dean fully explained his intent when he practically threw it to him in the kitchen that night. But he had secretly _hope-_

“I-I just thought it would be nice, since you’ve always shown me your favorite music. And I know he’s not your favorite, _but_ you did like Scenes from a-”

“Cas, it’s _great._ Seriously thank you for the tape. I can’t wait to listen to it” Dean said cutting off Cas’ anxious rambling.

That seemed to relax him as he let out a sigh, and giving Dean a small smile.

Which Dean easily returned, and they stared at each other a moment longer.

“And thank you, for your _measured_ compliment about my cooking” Cas smirked, and just like that he went back to his book.

Dean found himself huffing a laugh as his eyes trailed to his hand.

_Cas made him a mixtape._

Of his _favorite_ songs, from his _favorite_ singer. _He doesn’t ev-_

His thought was cut short by the alarms on both of their phones.

4:30. Time for Jack’s second bottle.

Cas stood with a smile, announcing he’d grab Jack. He wandered down the hall, but not before placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

He stared at the tape in his hands. Afraid to move it, as if it would disappear.

A mixtape.

_Fuck_

Don’t get him wrong, Dean is over the _moon_ that Cas thought of doing this for him at all, just the thought is making his head spin.

But his heart can’t help but sink a little.

Dean had spent _weeks_ carefully choosing each song, hoping that Cas would get the message. Prayingthat the lyrics would do the talking _for him._

Clearly, he was wrong bu-

 _Well,_ he actually didn’t know if he was wrong, since he hadn’t even listened to the tape yet.

Cas could have understood. Maybe he did know the significance of a mixtap-maybe he _knew_ , and he didn’t feel the same.

_Maybe that’s why he never spoke to Dean about it._

But he did make Dean a tape so may-

 _No._ He can’t let himself spiral like this, not before he even listens to the damned thing.

Cas walked back into the kitchen, with Jack in his arms.

Dean smiled at the sight, crossing the room to see the kid for the first time in days.

The tape would just have to wait, _for now._

And luckily for Dean, they put Jack back to bed around five, and Cas decided to finish his book in his room.

So Dean quickly grabbed his keys and slipped out the door.

He drove for a few miles out of town, before he finally popped the tape in with a trembling hand.

By the fourth song, he had to pull over on the side of an abandoned road.

When it finished Dean sat frozen with his hands gripping the wheel. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard, wouldn’t let himself believe it. So he immediately rewound it, starting it over again.

And when he reached track thirteen for a second time, Dean sat with tears in his eyes as he watched the sunrise through the clouds.

He reread the little note that was taped to the back of the cassette, looking over the tracklist, for the hundredth time.

_Cas knew._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist link to: [Cas' Top 13 Billy Joel Traxx](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0OKTKcvvl2tRFco6GvYC0M?si=8Vx-XCtcRy6ydfTKdThONA)  
> Link to fic/graphic on [ tumblr ](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/post/644060854465265664/cas-top-13-billy-joel-traxx-playlist)
> 
> This mixtape idea has been rattling around in my head for months, and I started writing again so ta da fic AND a playlist!  
> Thank you for reading!!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack puts Dean and Cas through the wringer, which may push Dean to his breaking point

There’s a scream.

Dean bolts from his room, feet pounding as he goes. He sees another figure in the dim glow of the hall.

Their eyes meet, hesitating for a moment, before entering the room and stopping in front of the crib.

Dean’ vision fills with a tiny body, writhing uncomfortably, as wails force their way from his throat.

Fear drops, _hard_ , in the pit of Dean’s stomach.

Without a moment's hesitation, he’s bouncing Jack in his arms, attempting to soothe him.

His eyes dart to the clock on the wall. 4:56 am. That can’t be right, Jack has only been having the one bottle at 2:30 am, now. He has been for weeks. And even, then he’s never-

Jack’s wails echo off the walls.

Dean finds Cas’ eyes in the dark.

He’s staring at Jack in shock, and hurriedly glances up at Dean, eyes swimming with terror and uncertainty.

 _Right._ Even though he’s been back for months, Cas has never had to raise a baby before, and he’s gotten used to the routine with no unexpected surprises. Dean’s terrified, but he can’t imagine what Cas is feeling.

So Dean moves. Check the obvious first.

He crosses to the changing table, quickly disposing of Jack’s diaper. Cas follows.

Dean sighs when it does nothing to quiet the kid’s screams.

It wasn’t the diaper, he definitely isn’t hungry.

Was it a nightmar-wait can babies even get nightmar-

 _Focus Winchester._ What could it b- _of course_ , why didn’t he think of this first?

 _It’s because you’re shit at this,_ his mind easily supplies.

A cold feeling washes over him.

God, could he _be_ more stu-

“Dean”? Cas calls desperately, ripping him from his thoughts.

Dean quickly recovers, and places his hand on Jack’s forehead.

He’s warm, but is he actually _warmer_ than usual?

Dean tries to get his brain to recall how Jack’s normal body temperature feels, but he’s drawing a complete blank.

_Fuck_

Dean feels the fear twist again as it crawls its way up his throat.

It washes over him in waves, but he can’t do anything to stop it.

_He has no idea what to do._

He’s standing with a child wailing against his chest, a child whose life depends on Dean’s ability to know what to do. And Cas is looking at him, terrified, waiting on Dean for instruction.

Dean suddenly can’t control his breathing.

_He’s powerless._

Tears threaten to spill from his eyes and h-

“-Dean? Was his forehead warm? Did he have a fever”? Cas asks anxiously as he braces a hand on Dean’s shoulder, searching his face for answers.

The warmth of Cas’ palm pulls him back to reality.

Cas always knows what he nee- _no now’s not the time._

Dean swallows.

“No-well I mean I don’t _think_ he feels warmer than normal-at least as far as I can tell? But there’s a thermom-”

“-oh wait, there’s no there’s no need-here let me” Cas trails off, as if he surprised himself and carefully takes Jack from Dean’s arms.

He watches as he softly places his hand on Jack’s forehead.

Then it hits him

_Angel. Duh_

He can read Jack’s actual temperature with his palm, or figure out what’s wrong with the touch of his fingers.

And they’re both standing here like idiots, paralyzed by fear, when Cas is a _friggin angel._

But in his defense, the kid has got him out of his scared out of his mind.

Dean trails his gaze up to Cas’ face, watching his eyes closed in concentration, waiting for his mojo to do its thing.

Sometimes, Dean forgets what Cas really is. Of course he knows that he’s an angel, but like-he’s _Cas._

Yes, he’s a badass, who’s millions of years old, and could kill someone with the tap of his finger, Dean’s _well_ aware.

But when he’s standing in front of you in a rumpled, purple sweater, a pair of sweatpants, and his dorky bee pun socks, of all things, it’s kinda hard _not_ to forget.

Cas is just so _human_ now. This change has been slowly happening over the years, but ever since he got back it’s like the Cas he first stabbed in that barn, doesn’t exist anymore.

Which isn’t a bad thing at all, it just makes everything a little more _confusing._

Which is why he’s kinda been avoiding him ever sin-

 _What the hell is he doing?_ He needs to focus on Jack, what if h-

“His temperature is 101.1 I’ve read that babies his age can have a resting temperature as high as 100.3, but since he’s only half-human?” Cas’ voice startles him out of his thoughts.

Jack is still wailing in his arms, as Cas bounces him from side to side. He’s looking at Dean expectantly, waiting for his input. Dean can still see the worry clear on his features.

Taking a deep breath, he regains some control of his breathing.

Just a little fever. _This,_ Dean can handle.

“Yeah that’s a little high. We should change him into something lighter, see if that cools him down a bit? Then if not we can give him some baby Motrin, and go from there?” Dean suggests.

Then they’re both moving. Cas placing Jack on the changing table, while Dean grabs some lighter PJs from the dresser.

Dean hovers as Cas, expertly switches out Jack's clothes. He murmurs to Jack in his signature low, rumbling tone, and manages to get to calm him a bit.

Cas is getting good at this. It’s like it’s second nature to him now. He really has become an amazing Dad. In fact, he’s so damn _good_ with Jack, it makes Dean’s stomach flip every time Cas pulls a laugh from him or manages to sing him back to sleep.

He watches as Cas slowly rocks Jack in his arms, humming under his breath.

And Dean is sent spiraling as soon as he recognizes the tune.

_Lullabye._

_By Billy Joel._

And yeah of course he’s heard Cas sing this to Jack hundreds of times before, he does this every night, but Dean hasn’t been around to hear it since that morning. Before he _listened._

The _morning_ they haven’t spoken about at all. Cas never asked, and Dean-well Dean didn’t exactly bring it up.

But now he’s singing _Billy fucking Joel_ , right in front of him.

And if Dean thought he was freaking out before, it’s nothing compared to the crisis he’s currently having.

It’s not like he’s actively been avoiding the subject, he jus–

"Oh” Cas gasps, pausing Dean’s spiral.

His eyes instantly find their way back to Cas.

Cas has stopped in his tracks, peering down at Jack’s now sniffling face.

Then he presses a soft kiss to his forehead, smiling to himself as he pulls away.

Jack’s sniffling stops as Cas looks back at Dean with a soft smile.

“I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. I could have just taken away his fever with my grace, but I guess fear got the better of me”.

Mojo, of course. Why the _hell_ didn’t either of them think of healing Jack, especially since they already both had the “duh angel” moment 10 minutes ago.

God this kids really gonna be the death of them, turning them into complete idiots only 8 months in.

“You and me both pal” Dean manages to respond with a strained laugh.

As soon as they’re sure Jack is asleep, they stand for a moment, hovering over the crib.

Dean pretends not to notice the way his heart races when Cas’ arm brushes against his.

“Well looks like we can write about the kid’s first fever in the baby book now, and about how it turned us into a couple of morons” Dean whispers in an attempt at a joke.

Beside him Cas hums in agreement with a soft chuckle, and they both head out of Jack’s room.

Dean needs some water, or better yet, some coffee. He’s _definitely_ not sleeping after the heart attack he just had.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he notices Cas is following.

Something drops low in the pit of Dean’s stomach.

Again, it’s not like he has been _completely_ avoiding Cas since that morning. They still hang out during the day, take care of Jack together, talk during the odd hours of the night, and they even have movie nights on Thursdays.

But it’s _different_ now. It’s quieter, and there’s an awkwardness to it that they both refuse to address.

It’s like there’s always something looming over them, just waiting to crush them.

And it’s not like Dean doesn’t want to talk about it, _of course_ _he does_ , but he just can’t, he’s not ready.

As he starts up the coffee maker, Cas drops into his usual seat, picking up his book where he left off. His head is resting in the palm of his hand, as he lazily flips through the pages, foot bouncing absentmindedly.

Looking just so completely _human._

Which is the _other_ issue.

Cas has always been a wildcard when it comes to emotions, and it’s not like they ever sat down and had a conversation about what he does and doesn’t feel.

So Dean always just assumed he experienced emotions, but like, _subdued_. Like Cas knew what he was feeling, he could name the feeling, but it didn’t emotionally affect or sway him the way it did with humans.

And now Dean has no idea what to think, because he’s sitting in the kitchen looking like he’s been a functioning human being his entire life, and _not_ a celestial warrior of God.

Which just makes everything harder, he just doesn’t know what to do.

Dean pours his cup with a trembling hand, then with a heavy sigh, he grips the counter tightly, grounding himself.

Because Dean heard that _mixtape._

He listened to it twice that morning, and he’s lost count of how many times since.

He’s memorized the songs, he’s analyzed every lyric. It’s all he’s thought about every single day for two weeks.

And he _knows_ what he heard.

His breathing quickens as anxiety washes over him, and he once again does nothing to stop it.

Which means that Cas _understood_ the intention behind giving a mixtape.

Which means he understood the meaning behind the tape _Dean_ had given him over a year ago.

He knows that Cas _knows_. He knows that’s _why_ Cas gave him one in return.

And _logically_ , Dean knows he’s right about all of this, but there’s a part of him that still doesn’t believe it’s true.

Part of him still thinks he’s just overthinking it. That Cas just gave it to him as a nice gesture and the songs had no deeper meaning behind them.

Because Dean _can’t_ let himself want Cas, and he can’t hope that Cas might want him.

He knows he isn’t worthy of him, that Cas deserves so much better. That he would just be a _disappointment_ , and he’d screw everything up.

_Because why would Cas ever want, a fuck up like hi-_

“-Dean, are you alright” Cas’ voice rips through his thoughts.

Dean swallows and dares a glance up.

He’s met with wild hair, that stupid head tilt, and wide blue eyes, swimming with concern.

_Cas_

Dean’s stomach flips and suddenly his mouth is moving before he can stop it.

“Cas I’ve gotta talk to you”

Cas tenses, hands clenching into fists, as the concern on his features is replaced with fear.

_Great, one second in he’s already fucked up._

Dean peers down as if his socked feet are the most interesting thing in the world, while trying to tame his increasing anxiety.

He takes a shuttering breath.

“I-I listened to the tape….” he trails off, mouth suddenly dry. He sneaks a glance up, to gauge Cas’ reaction.

And Cas goes white as a sheet, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Ye-yeah, I uh, liked it” Dean lamely tacks on, mentally cursing himself _(“I liked it”, seriously Winchester? That’s what you went with?)_

He watches as Cas’ face goes through twelve different emotions, until landing on one Dean can’t decipher.

“Oh…..well I’m glad you enjoyed it” Cas chokes out.

And in that moment, Dean doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it’s the way Cas looked at him, maybe it’s the lingering adrenaline from Jack’s fever scare, or maybe it’s his complete lack of sleep.

But suddenly he’s pacing around the kitchen, unable to shut up

“Yeah- I uh, well I actually listened to it a couple times- _well more than a couple._ I stopped keeping track after twenty”

He braves another glance at Cas who’s frozen in fear at the table, so Dean continues before he loses his nerve. Hands flying, pointedly facing away from Cas.

“And I couldn’t help but um, notice that a lot of the songs had a _common_ theme? And I just never thou-”

“-Dean” Cas tries to interject, but Dean keeps going.

“-when I-when I gave you that mixtape last year, I never thought that you understo-and now you just gave _me_ one, with all those songs and I can’t help but think that you-that you might-that _those_ songs might-I think you chose them for a reason-a _specific_ reaso-”

“ _-Dean_ ”

“-the same reason I di-and if I’m wrong then- _fuck man_ , you can smite me right here, right now if I’m wrong-which I _probably_ am. I’m probably just overthinking this whole thing and making myself look like an idiot. I’m probably just making a big deal out of nothing, _like I alwa-_ ”

“ _Dean, you’re right_ ”

“-always do, like I’m doing right _now_ actually, acting like a dumba-”

Dean stalls, words catching in his throat.

 _Wait did Cas jus_ - _no he must have heard him wr-_

“Dean, you’re _right_ ” Cas repeats behind him, voice trembling.

Dean’s back is to him, as he grips the cool metal of the kitchen island again, refusing to turn around.

His heart races when he hears the scrape of a chair behind him.

“You’re right, about wh-about why I made that tape, with those songs. I chos-I _chose t_ hem for a reason” Cas continues, voice wavering.

Dean’s thoughts are buzzing around his skull, he can’t fully process what Cas’ words.

Because Dean _thinks_ he knows what he’s trying to say.

_But he can’t possibly mean t-_

“-I’m sorry, I-I have no idea what I was thinking. It was _insane_ to give you that, when I know I can’t-and now I’ve gone and ruined everything-”

_Wait, he can’t mean that. Dean just heard him wrong he can’t hav-_

But something, _hope_ , he recognizes, pulls deep within him, and he grips the counter tighter. Maybe he _did_ hear him right, _may-._

No, Dean has to be sure first. He has to know for _sure._

So Dean finds his voice.

“Cas, I-I think I know what you’re trying to say bu-but I _need_ you to say it. I _need_ to be sure that I understand you, because I don’t think I can handl- _I_ _just_ …….” Dean trails off, voice breaking.

They stand in silence, and Dean’s pretty sure Cas can hear his heart pounding against his chest.

His stomach drops, ice rushing through his veins.

Dean was wrong. 

_God of course he was wrong,_ and now Cas hates him. He’s managed to fuck up the _only_ friendship he’s ever had, all because he can’t just store his crap.

But no he has to be selfish and want Cas, and _fuck u-_

“I love you”

Dean’s brain short circuits.

_No-he can’t have. No Dean heard that wrong, he’s just tired an-_

“-I do and, again I’m sorry, I truly didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I love you Dean and I can’t help it-”

_Oh._

And without thinking, Dean moves.

“-And I know this ruins everything especially since I _know_ you can’t- that you _don’t_ -but I’m so-”

Dean grips Cas around the waist, as he smashes their lips together, effectively cutting Cas off.

Their teeth clank and their noses bump, but Dean doesn’t care.

 _CasCasCasCasCasCasCasCas,_ is all his mind can supply.

Dean reluctantly pulls away, hands cradling Cas’s face, whose hands have somehow found their way around Dean’s waist.

Dean stares down at him, unable to look away.

His hair is sticking up in every direction, blue eyes blown wide brimming with unspilled tears, lips parted in shock.

_Cas._

“-Dean, what, why did yo…” Cas trails off, voice breaking.

And then it hits him.

Dean just kissed _Cas_. Dean just kissed his best friend because he said he _loved him._

 _Cas_ said that he loved him. _Cas loves Dean._

And Dean, loves him too.

God, _he loves Cas._

“Because I do too- "Dean starts, voice breaking.

He looks into Cas’ eyes, seeing the small sliver of hope behind them, and takes a shuttering breath.

"I love you. _Damnit Cas_ , I’ve loved you for so long and I-”

“ _Me too Dean,_ I have for years, but I never _dreamed_ that you- that you’d ever, return that feeling an-” Cas stops with a sob.

Dean shushes him, gently wiping some of Cas’ tears away with his thumb.

He feels like he’s floating. 

They’re really standing in the kitchen with Cas’ hands tightly gripping the back of his shirt.

A watery laugh rips past Dean’s throat.

“God what a couple of dumbasses, huh? Could have done this years ago, all that wasted time” Dean says in disbelief.

“Yes, we _have_ been a pair of dumbasses, for years it would seem. But that’s okay, because we can have it _now,_ right?” Cas asks, uncertainty clear in his voice.

Cas still doesn’t believe this is really happening, and Dean can’t say he blames him. 

“Of course we can Cas” Dean responds with complete certainty, looking into his eyes. 

He needs Cas to know that this is what Dean wants, he needs him to understand that it’s _all_ Dean has wanted, for years. He is _not_ going to screw this up.

And it must have worked because Cas is practically glowing. There’s tear tracks on his cheeks, but his eyes are bright and shining with pure joy, a gummy smile on his lips.

 _God, I love him, I really love him,_ Dean thinks to himself.

Of course there’s a long conversation to be had, and even longer conversations to come, because nothing is ever really this simple.

But Dean can’t bring himself to care, because all of his focus is on the man in front of him. The man he’s loved in silence for years. The man who loves him _back_.

Because for the first time in his life, Dean is going to let himself _want_. And what he wants, is _Cas_.

"Well….we better get _started_ then” Cas quips with a smile, all traces of uncertainty gone (which definitely _doesn’t_ make Dean’s stomach flip).

And with that, Cas’ hands make their way to his neck, as he pulls him into another kiss.

And by God, it’s the _best_ damnkiss of Dean’s life.

Because it feels like _home,_ like this is where Dean’s meant to be.

So he easily melts into Cas’ touch letting the love and warmth wash over him, soaking in every bit of Cas he can get. 

And if in the morning, Sam finds them with their hands clasped across the kitchen table, as they take turns feeding Jack spoonfuls of applesauce.

Well, that’s none of his business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had not planned on this happening, the story ran away from me a bit, so I hope you enjoyed these two dumbasses.  
> As always come yell with me on tumblr [ @chocolatecakecas](https://chocolatecakecas.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


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